


Royally Country

by EmmaTheRevelator (MaybeItWasMemphis), MaybeItWasMemphis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Country Music, Country Romance, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Mississippi, Modern Royalty, Romance, Royal Romance, United Kingdom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22629361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeItWasMemphis/pseuds/EmmaTheRevelator, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeItWasMemphis/pseuds/MaybeItWasMemphis
Summary: A country music superstar who is raising his three nieces. England’s Princess Royal, who is trying her damndest to carry on her family’s traditions while also trying to avoid strangling the Princess of Wales. Can this unlikely couple overcome the pressures of duty, fame, and family? Read and find out!
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Rednecks and Royalty Don’t Mix

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in an alternate reality where the House of Windsor doesn’t exist. The fictional House of Balmoral sits on the throne in this world.
> 
> This story is a rewrite of an old fanfic of mine. I have been made aware that Princess Melody seems to be based on Meghan Markle. She's not. She was created way back in 2014 and was, honestly, originally based (slightly) on Kate Middleton.

_“Gimme the girl that's beautiful,_   
_Without a trace of makeup on,  
Barefoot in the kitchen,  
Singing her favorite song.  
Dancing around like a fool,  
Starring in her own little show,  
Gimme the girl that the rest of the world,  
Ain't lucky enough to know.”_

**\- Joe Nichols, Gimme That Girl**

**PORT GIBSON, MISSISSIPPI**

“Uncle Pax! You gotta come up here and watch this!” Courtney’s voice called from the direction of the family room.

Pax had adopted his three nieces after the death of his brother, Rusty, ten years earlier. The oldest two, Mae, and Julie, had already graduated from high school. Both were no students at the University of Michigan. With her sisters no longer living just down the hall, fourteen-year-old Courtney had attached herself to her uncle’s hip.

Pax pushed his chair away from the mixing board, got to his feet, and slowly made his way upstairs from the home recording studio that he had installed in the basement of his home. “What’s up, Court?” He asked once he arrived in his rustically decorated family room.

Courtney was curled up under her tie-dyed comforter on the brown suede couch. She was home sick from school, having caught the flu bug that had been going around town. Port Gibson was small, with a population under two thousand. It seemed like if one citizen got sick, the rest of the town was soon to follow.

“ _Entertainment Now_ is doing a segment on royalty. They have a celebrity panel matching celebrities up with members of the English royal family, and they’ve paired you up with the Queen’s oldest daughter, Princess Cordelia,” Courtney explained. She seemed way too excited by all of this, but he shouldn’t be surprised. She had been dressing up like a princess and obsessing over princes since she was four-years-old.

While Pax was simply ‘Uncle Pax’ at home, the rest of the world knew him as Paxton Raney, the thirty-six-year-old reigning king of country/rock music. His first number one since, _Emerald Eyes_ , had been released twenty years earlier when he had been barely old enough to drive a car.

“Princess, who?” Pax stared blankly at his niece.

Courtney rolled her eyes. “Princess Cordelia, the Princess Royal. She’s Queen Olivia’s daughter. Her older brother is the Prince of Wales, Prince Rhys. There was a big fuss about his wedding a few years ago…”

Everything Courtney said was going entirely over Pax’s head. He vaguely knew who these people were, but he sensed that he had to pretend to be interested or else his niece would never shut up about it.

“Alright, why have they matched me up with Princess Corey –”

“Cordelia,” Courtney corrected.

“Why have they matched me up with Princess _Cordelia_?” He asked, even though he didn’t want nor care to know the answer.

Courtney picked up her feet off the couch and motioned for him to sit down. “Just watch this with me.”

Sighing, Pax sat down. Courtney put her feet in his lap and hit the play button on the remote control.

The image on the TV screen that hung from the wood-paneled wall unfroze. Pax found himself watching a panel made up of some vapid reality show family whose last name he didn’t care enough about to remember. Against his better judgment, he started listening.

_*** VAPID REALTY STAR #1: “Okay, next on our list is everyone’s favorite cowboy, Paxton Raney.” ***_

Pax had never in his almost four decades on planet earth been a cowboy. He rode motorcycles, not horses. Just because a guy had a southern accent, wore a cowboy hat, and sang country music, it didn’t mean that he was a cowboy. He had never even been to a rodeo or horse race. Pax was more outlaw than yee-haw.

_*** VAPID REALTY STAR WITH THE BAD FACELIFT: “Oh, I know who would make a good match for him…Princess Cordelia.” ***_

A still-picture appeared on the screen. The woman in the picture had what appeared to be emerald-green eyes (his favorite, he was a sucker for them), medium-length wavy blonde hair, and was of average height. In the photograph, she was wearing blue skinny jeans and a tight white t-shirt that did nothing to hide the fact that she had curves in all the right places. The picture was clearly a paparazzi shot, the fine ass princess having been photographed as she crossed the street. The photograph changed, and now he was staring at the same woman in a much different setting. She was wearing a scarlet-red ballgown that fell all the way to the ground. She wore a pearl choker and teardrop earrings and stop her head was a small, diamond-encrusted tiara. She was standing beside her mother, Queen Olivia, who was similarly dressed except she was wearing a much bigger tiara. She looked like she had stepped right out of a Disney movie. Pax hated to agree with a reality star about anything, but he had to admit, Princess Cordelia was his type…in appearance anyway.

_*** VAPID REALTY STAR WITH THE BAD FACELIFT: “Besides the fact that I think they would make, like, a super cute couple, Princess Cordelia is also half-American. People tend to forget that her father, King Robert, was born in Vicksburg, Mississippi.”_

_ VAPID REALTY STAR #1: “Really? I didn’t know that.” ***_

Pax suspected that there was a lot that these women didn’t know.

_*** VAPID REALTY STARS’ MOTHER: “Oh, yes. There was a huge fuss back in the early eighties when Queen Oliva married an American.”_

_ VAPID REALTY STAR WITH THE BAD FACELIFT: “Total scandal but it blew over. The British people ended up loving King Robert, and the four royal children, Prince Rhys, Princess Cordelia, Princess April, and Prince James, were all raised to value their American roots. While Prince Rhys and Prince James were schooled in England at Ludgrove, and later, Eton, Princess Cordelia, and her little sister, Princess April, were educated here in America at Salem Academy in North Carolina. Princess Cordelia even chose to attend college at the University of Alabama, where she majored in business and non-profit management. So, there’s a little bit of country in the princess.” ***_

Pax chuckled to himself. It was beyond evident that the vain woman on the screen was reading from a teleprompter. He could see her eyes moving back and forth as she read. “Alright, bumblebee, I’m done.” He tapped Courtney’s leg to get her to move it so he could stand up. “I have a song the label wants me to finish by the end of the week.”

Sure, Princess Cordelia was gorgeous, but he wasn’t the kind of man to obsess over a woman that he would never meet. He came from a much different background than the princess. Rednecks and royalty didn’t mix.


	2. The Royal Rock Show

** KENSINGTON PALACE **

** APARTMENT OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL **

** LONDON, ENGLAND **

“Are the two of you seriously considering holding the show in the states this year?” The Princess of Wales, Princess Melody, sat primly on the sofa. Melody detested all things American, including her father-in-law. She had only been invited as a show of family unity. The press, and thus, the public had begun to pick up on the tension between Princess Melody and the rest of the royal family. For the sake of the monarchy’s continuation, they had to make it look like everything was roses when it wasn’t. That’s why Melody had been given a token seat on the planning board for the annual Royal Rock Show.

The Royal Rock Show was an event that had been the brainchild of Princess Cordelia and her younger brother, Prince James. The show was held in a different country every year. It was a great way to strengthen diplomatic relations with ally nations. The concert brought together some of the most popular musical artists of the moment to benefit charity. Half of the money raised went to the Prince’s Trust, a charity headed by the heir to the throne, Prince Rhys. The trust granted start-up grants to young men and women with unique and/or worthwhile business ideas. Since its inception, the trust had been responsible for the launches of one hundred and seventy-five businesses in Great Britain. The other half of the money raised was evenly distributed amongst a handful of charities that operated in the concert’s host country.

“What’s wrong with the states?” Princess Cordelia, better known to her family and friends as Cordie, challenged. Out of everyone in the family, Cordie probably disliked Melody the most. It was Cordie who always got stuck picking up the slack for her work-shy sister-in-law. Melody thought being royalty was all about looks and taking exotic holidays. She didn’t understand or often partake in the charity work required of their positions…and this disappointing woman would one day be queen.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit low class?” Melody looked like she had something smelly under her pointed nose.

Cordie had to take a deep breath and count to ten to avoid saying something she (might) regret later. Melody was the mother of Cordie’s nieces, so she tried to keep the peace as best as she could for their sake. “My father was born in that ‘low class’ country, Mel,” she spoke through slightly gritted teeth.

“And, yes,” James spoke up from his place seated on the bench of Cordie’s baby grand piano. “We’ve settled on Mississippi for the show this year, Biloxi, to be exact.” He turned to look at Cordie. “I was making a list of performers to invite this year, and I was thinking of asking Paxton Raney to open the show. He’s from Mississippi.”

Cordie got a bit excited, but she avoided showing it to her little brother. James’ green eyes and platinum blond hair certainly made him look the part of an angel, but he was far from it. As much as she loved him, she would admit, he could be downright devilish when he wanted to be. She’d been a closet Paxton Raney fan since she was a teenager, but she didn’t want James to know in case he decided to take the mickey out of her about it.

“We’re going with an all-around white trash theme this year. Terrific.” Melody threw her unwanted opinion in once again.

Cordie had had enough. She stood from the sofa and addressed James while completely ignoring Melody. “I’ll send out an invitation to Paxton Raney. Do you care to join me in my garden at four for a bite to eat? We can continue our plans in private.”

Melody sent Cordie a death glare, but she held her tongue.

James smirked and nodded. “See you at four.”


	3. An Invite Makes Courtney Wig Out

** ONE WEEK LATER **

** PORT GIBSON, MISSISSIPPI **

“Uncle Pax!” Courtney yelled as she came flying into the basement studio like a bat out of hell. “You got a letter from Princess Cordelia!” She waved an envelope in front of her uncle’s confused face.

What in the name of all that was holy was she talking about? Glancing beside him, he saw his producer/best friend, Kevin, looking much amused at his niece’s behavior.

Pax took the envelope out of Courtney’s hand and tore it open. To keep Courtney from wetting herself in anticipation, he read the enclosed letter aloud.

_*** “Dear Mr. Raney,_

_I am writing to you on behalf of my brother, James, and myself. As the founders of the annual Royal Rock Show, we would like to personally extend an invitation for you to open this year’s concert. The event will be held in Biloxi, Mississippi, at the end of May. Proceeds from the show will be donated to the Prince’s Trust here in the United Kingdom as well as five American charities whose collective aim is to eliminate homelessness in the United States._

_I understand that you are a very busy man with a great many demands on your valuable time. If there is any possible way to arrange your appearance, my family and I would be greatly in your debt._

_I have included my office’s telephone number at the bottom of this letter. Please, feel free to phone me with any questions or concerns that you may have._

_Respectfully Yours,_

_Cordelia Balmoral” ***_

Pax was impressed by the fact that the princess had signed the letter with her name as opposed to her title.

Courtney started jumping up and down while clapping her hands together. “Please, tell me you’re going to do it,” she pleaded.

Kevin shook his head and turned to look at him. “Brother, you really need to cut down on little mama’s caffeine intake before she strokes out.”

Pax ran a hand over his face. “Court, ladybug, I’m not gonna promise you anything, but I’ll go and give the princess a call so I can see what this,” he waved the letter, “is all about.”

“Thank you so much!” Courtney jumped up and hugged him tightly around the neck, almost cutting off his oxygen supply.

Once his niece released him, Pax turned to look at Kevin. “Watch her, please, man. Make sure she doesn’t follow me and eavesdrop on my call.”

Kevin simply nodded while Courtney looked both outraged and guilty because that is precisely what she had been planning to do.

  
  



	4. The Red Stapler

Once safely behind the locked door of his home office, Pax dialed the phone number at the bottom of the letter from Princess Cordelia. He took a seat in his brown leather desk chair as he waited for the call to connect.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Cordelia’s office. This is Mary, how may I assist you?” A soft, pleasant English accent greeted him on the other end of the line.

“Uh, yeah, my name’s Paxton Raney. I got a letter from Princess Cordelia about performing at the Royal Rock Show,” he spoke awkwardly.

“Of course, Mr. Raney. Please, hold one moment while I see if Her Royal Highness has time to take your call.”

Pax had to chuckle when he noticed that Princess Cordelia’s hold music was his son, _In My Country I’m Strong_.

***

Cordie and James were going over plans for the Royal Rock Show’s opening sets and worrying over whether or not they had an opening act when a knock came on her office door.

“Come in,” Cordie called.

The door opened and her private secretary, Mary, appeared. She gave the royal siblings a quick curtsey before getting down to business. “Mr. Paxton Raney is on the phone for you, ma’am.”

Cordie’s heart rate sped up and James started quietly laughing to himself, but she hadn’t the foggiest clue why. She took a deep breath before picking up the phone that sat on her desk. “This is Cordelia,” she tried to sound as business-like as possible.

James was still laughing. “What’s wrong with you?” Cordie silently mouthed the words but her brother ignored her.

“I’m gonna be completely honest with you, ma’am. I have no idea what to call you,” a deep voice laced with an American southern accent turned the princess to goo. “And nice choice of hold music. It’s good to know that you’re a fan.”

“Bullocks!” Now she knew why James was laughing at her. He had changed her hold music again. She grabbed the red stapler off of her desk and chucked it at him as hard as she could.

“Ow! No! Staplers hurt!” James rubbed his elbow where she had managed to strike him. “It was just a joke.”

Cordie heard a deep laugh on the other end of the line. Great. Now Paxton Raney was laughing at her. James was so bloody dead.

“I’m sorry for my language, Mr. Raney. My hold music is usually _I Vow to Thee My Country_. My brother just fancies himself a comedian,” she explained with a blush that she was very thankful that he couldn’t see. “And you may call me Cordie, although I admit that I’m having a similar problem as you. I don’t know how to address you.”

She heard him laugh again. “Cordie, if you cured, I didn’t catch it. And I’m the last person you ever need to apologize to for cussin’. You can call me Pax.”

Was it normal to get chills when a man said her name? She needed back-up if she was going to avoid making a fool of herself. “Listen, Pax, my brother, James, is here with me at the moment. Would it be alright if I put you on speakerphone?”

James mouther ‘coward’ at her but she ignored him.

“Sure, darlin’, go ahead.”

Cordie hit the speaker button and hung up the handset.

“James here,” her brother spoke up to announce his presence in the conversation.

“The comedian?” There was still amusement in Pax’s tone.

Cordie rolled her eyes as James answered, “Guilty.”

“Cordie,” Pax addressed her. “I got your letter and I’m curious what all you are asking me to do.”

Finally! Something she was comfortable talking about. “Well, since America will be hosting the Royal Rock Show this year, we are holding the concert on Memorial Day weekend. Since you are a Mississippi native, we were hoping you’d be willing to sign up as our opening act.

“And we have to warn you, the Royal Rock Show does not pay celebrities to appear because it’s a charity event,” James advised.

“While I normally don’t play for free, I guess I can make an exception.” It sounded like he was agreeing. “It’s for a good cause and my nieces would disown me if I said no. I’ll do it.”

Cordie had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing in excitement.

“That’s bloody brilliant, mate. Listen, I need to steal Cordie on unrelated business. Let me give you her mobile number. You can give her a ring later this evening to work out the rest of the details.” James rattled off his sister’s number before Cordie even knew what hit her. Then, he ended the call…or so it appeared.


	5. Itty Bitty Pieces

Cordie glared at James. “Did you just give Paxton Raney my mobile number?”

James smiled cheekily and nodded. “Yes.”

“Why would you bloody well do that?” She hissed at him, doing a great impression of a pissed off snake.

“Because you’ve fancied him since you were at school and, according to google, you’re both single. Plus, I overheard Mum telling Aunt Claudia that she’s concerned you’re still a virgin. She doesn’t feel like it’s healthy at your age.” James backed up a little further out of her reach because she was slowly advancing on him. He knew the kind of beast she could transform into when she was angry.

“I’m going to murder you, cut you up into itty bitty pieces, and throw you into the Thames,” Cordie informed him calmly…being lunging and giving chase.

England’s princess never noticed the red light on her phone blinking, indicting that the speaker was still on…and that Pax had heard every single word.

***

Pax sat in his desk chair with a smirk on his face as he hit the end button on his phone. So, the woman that he hadn’t been able to get off his mind since had first seen her photo was attracted to him. He was definitely going to make a move. Looking down at the cell phone number that he had copied down on his notepad. He sent the princess a quick text. Then, he went to tell Courtney that she had gotten her wish. He would be performing at the Royal Rock Show.


	6. Cordie Can’t Flirt

**KENSINGTON PALACE**

**CORDIE’S APARTMENT**

After Cordie had beaten her brother within an inch of his life, she had gone about the rest of her day as usual. She had attended the opening of a new children’s home in Surrey, and she had managed to sit through a family dinner at Buckingham Palace without killing her snotty sister-in-law or even making fun of her too severely. It wasn’t until later that night, when she was at home, soaking in her bathtub, that she got around to checking her mobile messages. With everything she had on her plate on a daily basis, she tried to stay off of her phone as much as she could. It was only a few years earlier that a London tabloid had managed to hack into the phones of Cordie, James, and their younger sister, April. Sure, the ones responsible had been caught and sent to prison, but Cordie hadn’t been able to fully trust electronic devices ever since.

Cordie only found one text message waiting for her. It was sent from an American phone number, so, curiously, she opened it.

_*** You have one of the most angelic voices that I’ve ever heard. I can’t wait to hear it again tonight. ***_

Cordie didn’t know what to do as she felt her cheeks warm, and her heart began to race. It certainly seemed like Paxton Rainey was hitting on her. This was literally her teenage dream coming true. Sadly, the awkward adult in her didn’t know how to handle the situation. She may have had royal blood, but that didn’t automatically make her a Disney princess. She had grown up in a fishbowl with nannies, guards, and the press watching her every move. She was anything but graceful and charming when around members of the opposite sex, especially men she was interested in.

Luckily, Cordie didn’t get too much time to think about things before her mobile began to ring. Looking at the called ID, she saw Pax’s number. Taking a slow, steadying breath, she answered. “Hello?”

“Nice to hear that pretty voice again, baby doll.”

Cordie’s heart damn near stopped at the flirtatious tone in his voice. He had NOT been talking to her in that tone of voice earlier in the day when James had also been on the line.

“How are you tonight, Pax?” She wasn’t even going to attempt to flirt back because she knew that she wasn’t any good at it. Her few past attempts had proven much too embarrassing to ever repeat.

“Better now that I’m talkin’ to you,” his reply was smooth.

“You know, Pax,” she nervously challenged. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were flirting with me.”

“And if I was?” Pax countered.

“I wouldn’t stop you…”


	7. Forward Invitations

“You wouldn’t stop me from flirting with you?” Pax’s tone was deeply amused on top of being flirtatious. “Why not?”

“Because I kind of fancy you.” Cordie was red from head to toe, the white of the bubbles in the tub making her now scarlet skin all the more noticeable.

“If that’s your way of sayin’ that you like me, I guess I should tell you that I like you too, Cordie, darlin’.” Pax’s voice was now deep and husky. “So, what are we gonna do about this, sweetie?”

Cordie had no idea how in the world to answer that question, so, she answered it with another one. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I’d like to get to know you better, if you’d allow it.” Pax seemed to be completely sincere. “I’m gonna be in London on Saturday for an awards show. Maybe you’ll let me take you out to dinner?”

Cordie was dumbfounded. “You really want to get to know me?”

“I ain’t lookin’ for a fling or a hookup, if that’s what you’re askin’,” he responded bluntly. “I’m too old for that shit.”

His words set Cordie’s mine more at ease about the entire situation. She had been a loyal fan of Pax long enough to know that he wasn’t the kind of person who said things that he did not mean. “I’d be thrilled to have dinner with you, Pax.” She was probably coming off as way too keen, but we’ve already firmly established that Cordie was not good at interacting with members of the opposite sex. This went double when the bloke was a celebrity that she’d fancied since she had been at boarding school in the states. “It would probably be best if we stayed in and had dinner in my flat. Fleet Street follows my family’s ever move here in London.” Fleet Street was the nickname of the British press, which was famously invasive. “I’d really like to get to know you without the intrusion of the press.” Cordie chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she waited for Pax’s response. She knew that, for a celebrity, Pax wasn’t much of a fame seeker, but she was worried that perhaps she had been too forward with her invitation.

“I’d live that, darlin’.” She could actually hear Pax smiling through the phone.

“So –”

At that moment, the bathroom door flew open and in barged the Princess of Wales.


	8. Bathtub Discoveries

“Bleeding Christ! Pax, can you hold on for a tick? A madwoman just barged into my bathroom uninvited.” Cordie put her slightly damp hand over her phone’s receiver. “Melody, what the hell are you doing here, and how did you get the key to my apartments?”

“I snagged it from Rhys.” Melody waved her hand. She acted like it was completely normal to ambush one’s sister-in-law when she was naked and in the tub. “Why does everyone in the family have a key except for me?”

“Golly gee, I wonder,” Cordie replied dryly.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The airhead finally seemed to take notice of the phone in Cordie’s hand. “Who are you talking to?”

“A friend,” Cordie responded shortly. She had said his name already. It wasn’t her fault that Melody hadn’t been paying attention. Besides, it was none of her business anyway. “Is there anything I can do for you, Melody, or were you just invading my privacy for kicks?”

Melody snapped her fingers. “Oh, right. Rhys and I are doing a goodwill walkabout in Ireland tomorrow, and the only Irish jewelry I own is that tacky shamrock broach your mum gave me.”

First of all, that ‘tacky’ broach was made out of silver, diamonds, and flawless emeralds, and it was worth close to half a million pounds. Second, Melody didn’t ‘own’ it. It had simply been loaned to her for the duration of her lifetime. The shamrock was a piece that actually belonged to the famous Crown Jewels collection, the pieces of which that weren’t regularly worn and/or used resided in the Tower of London. They belonged to the Crown and the British people.

“Is there any way I could borrow that diamond and emerald Celtic cross necklace of yours? The one your dad gave you for your eighteenth birthday.”

Cordie raised an eyebrow at her sister-in-law. “That necklace was made in America, in a city you find to be white trash.” For walkabouts, the royal rule was to wear local designers whenever possible. If Melody wore an American necklace that was designed in the Celtic style, the politically correct media would tear her apart, and she would probably piss off a lot of people in Ireland. She would have warned the future queen, but Cordie knew the older woman wasn’t prone to listening to good advice.

Melody nodded. “Yeah, that one.”

Jesus. If the woman was any slower, she would be going backwards. Cordie told Melody to grab the necklace out of her jewelry box in her bedroom just to get her to go away.

Once the Princess of Wales was gone, Cordie returned her attention to her phone. “Pax?”

“I’m still here, darlin’. Family trouble? I hadn’t realized the whole royal family lived together.” Pax laughed.

“We seriously don’t,” Cordie chuckled. “A lot of us live on the grounds of Kensington Palace, but we don’t live together,” she explained. “My brother, James, has his own small cottage, and I have my own suite of apartments. My older brother, Rhys, does as well. His apartments are on the opposite side of the palace, so his work-shy wife has to go out of her fucking way to irritate me.”

Pax burst out laughing. “I’ve discovered a few things about you today, sweetheart,” he playfully informed her.

“And what, exactly, have you discovered?” Cordie was genuinely curious.

“I’ve learned that you’re surprisingly shy and insecure for a princess. I know you like me, but you’re also kinda scared of me too.” All of this was shockingly accurate. “I know you’re one hundred percent a lady, but you’ve got the mouth of a truck driver in private, and I find it sexy as hell. I know you’re a virgin and that you can’t stand the Princess of Wales. Oh, and I know that you’re as naked as the day you were born right now.”

“How the holy fuck?!” Cordie blurted out.


	9. Queen

Pax was laughing heartily on the other end of the line. “Darlin’, you pretty much told me you were in the tub when your sister-in-law barged in. I can put two and two together. I may be country, but I ain’t stupid, sweetheart.”

Cordie was mortified, but she didn’t want him to think that she thought him stupid. She knew that was a negative stereotype of people who hailed from the American south, and she also knew it to be patently false, her father being a superb example. “Pax, I never thought you were stupid,” she rushed to assure him.

“Darlin’, I was just kiddin’,” Pax sounded amused, but he was no longer laughing, so that was a plus. “Datin’ you is gonna be pretty damn hard if you can’t relax when you’re talking to me, baby.”

“Well, you kind of caught me by surprise with your…observations,” she defended herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to repeat what he had said. “How did you know about the…” Again, the words wouldn’t leave her mouth.

“The virgin thing?” The amusement was gone from Pax’s tone. It had gone from playful and light to gentle and serious.

“Yeah,” Cordie mumbled as she used her foot to turn on the hot water tap. He already knew she was in the bath, so why bother sitting in tepid water that was slowly turning cold?

“Cordelia, darlin’, please don’t take this wrong but, you’re too damn shy to have ever been with a man,” Pax sounded a little hesitant. He was clearly worried about pissing her off, and Cordie took that as a good sign.

“I don’t know what to say,” Cordie admitted. How did anyone respond to that, let alone a romantically challenged princess?

“Does it bother you that I know you’re a virgin, baby doll?” Pax asked gently.

Cordie couldn’t help it; she laughed…albeit just a tad hysterically…which she hoped the country heartthrob hadn’t picked up on. “Does it bother you that I _am_ a virgin?” She also wasn’t stupid. She knew that virgins her age were almost as rare as white tigers.

“Sweetheart, it’s a point in your favor,” Pax replied without missing a beat. “Doin’ what I do, I see a lot of women with no standards. I know it ain’t PC to say it, but I don’t like feelin’ like I’ve my girl with a dozen other men. Plus, I got three nieces I’m tryin’ to sha[e into good women. I need a good woman ridin’ as my queen to help me, and you fit the bill, baby.”

“Riding as your queen?” Cordie had spent a good deal of time in the American south, but she had never heard that phrase before.

Pax’s chuckle was husky…and it made Cordie rub her thighs together uncomfortably. “I’m the president of the Port Gibson Saints…it’s an MC –”

“MC?” Again Cordie was clueless.

“Motorcycle club,” Pax clarified. “The president’s ol’ lady is called the club’s queen.”

Cordie’s heart felt like it was beating all the way up in her ears. “You think I could be your queen?” That was one title that she had never planned on having, and she held quite a few.

“No, baby doll. I know you’re gonna be my queen.” Pax sounded utterly sure of himself.


End file.
